


Compilation

by Highsmith (quimtessence)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Sex, Billy Hargrove Is in Love, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Harrington, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 02, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, Smut Swap Treat, Top Billy Hargrove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-04 11:03:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18342359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quimtessence/pseuds/Highsmith
Summary: Sometimes, all Billy wants to do is push aside the stale old bullshit between them andask for more.





	Compilation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Etnoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etnoe/gifts).



> This was a completely unplanned Treat. Took me by surprise how I got a little obsessed with some of your asks/prompts. Hopefully an enjoyable read.

Sometimes, he thinks he could push aside the stale old bullshit between them and ask him for more.

Counting the days since Steve Harrington deigned to look his way is the farthest from Billy's preferred ways to spend a boring-ass bus ride to an away game. Sitting with Tommy is a close second.

(For the record, thirty-two; it's been thirty-two days.)

He struggles every other day not to turn it into counting down to an ending. As far as Billy's concerned, heart beating wildly, that's not on the table. His lip curls, mouth tight, just fleetingly considering it.

Tommy is jabbering like a little bitch about stupid shit Billy can't muster the effort to care about, gets up to make his way to the front to spew that crap on more willing ears. Their seats are right at the back. Billy seems to blink and Steve appears out of nowhere to take Tommy's place. It's easy to pretend to be annoyed in case anyone has a casual glance to throw their way.

"Miss me?" Steve mutters, all quiet like a secret. Because Steve's let Billy kiss him and paw at him, and Steve's gone down to his knees for Billy on boring afternoons when the Harringtons weren't home.

Billy watches the corners of Steve's mouth twitching around a shy smile, and wishes he could thumb his lips open and lick inside. Those big, brown eyes make Billy want to dizzily sink to his knees right here.

"Why should I, pretty boy?" he drawls, cocky. His heart wants to crawl its way out of his chest.

Mentally, he shoves aside any thoughts which don't revolve around Steve, skin itching at the sheer audacity of anyone expecting his mind not to wander down a path of what-ifs when Steve Fucking Harrington is looking at him like that.

The truth is he spends the majority of any given day with his thoughts dazedly chasing each other between memories of Steve touching him before class in the janitor's closet and behind the bleachers after lunch, Steve leading the way up the stairs to his bedroom to push Billy onto his bed with a playful shove. Obsessing about how Steve takes him down until Billy's balls-deep in his mouth and down his throat, about tucking his cock between another boy's lips to feel him tremble and choke, moan and drool around him.

Making a mess of him is something out of Billy's wet dreams. He doesn't have to ask then, Steve already accommodating the length of him inside, letting Billy force his jaw open even wider. When Steve's eyes water and Billy believes he's had enough, it's a rush to watch him strain to take Billy deeper still, making himself gag for that extra quarter of an inch Billy's not giving him yet. It's enough to fall in love over.

Watching Steve now as he worries at his bottom lip, shooting Billy furtive looks from beneath his lashes before shifting his gaze to the front of the bus, Billy can't help thinking he could have that little bit _more_.

When he thinks about it, _really thinks about it_ , considers how he'd want it to go, Steve is always a little sore already, a little fragile. A little worn. All from Billy fucking him earlier the same day.

Billy almost chokes. He swallows and watches the side of Steve's head.

He'd give him an out.

"You wanna stop, baby?" All sweet and patient with Steve sprawled across his own bed, shafts of light warming them up.

Steve would mewl, back shiny with sweat, and then clench harder around him, shift his weight to milk him tight, have Billy groaning into the side of his neck.

"No," barely squeezed out around a deep moan. A go-ahead for Billy to fuck in to the root, fill Steve's childhood bedroom with the slap-slap-slap of skin on skin.

There's no question Billy would work his dick like Steve likes it, smooth all the way up and a rough, pinching twist at the tip. He's learnt how to work Steve's cock with him straddling Billy's lap, sprawled together in the back of the Camaro in the alley behind the grocery store every Tuesday evening since they started this.

Another time, it'd be knees against his chest, Billy's mind supplies next. Pushing his dick in slowly to watch Steve's puffy rim stretched sweetly around him. They'd be able to kiss then. Billy'd reach for his lips, need to lick in and taste him. When he'd fuck in close they could share breath. Steve's hands would unwind from his bed sheets to splay across Billy's shoulders for leverage to rock into Billy's thrusts, fuck him right back languidly, whimper and whine prettily when Billy'd turn it back into a rough push and pull of hips.

After, he'd crawl his way down Steve's sore little body to nuzzle at him, take him into his mouth, have him drool pre onto Billy's tongue until Billy's mouth would make him cry out and come down his throat.

Billy's aware sucking and hands and making out for almost two hours in a big, empty house is not the same as letting another boy push in all rough, over and over, _fuck_. But he wants that, wants to watch Steve taking it from Billy and loving the sting of it, asking for more, even when his body is all one big, pulsing ache because of him.

Without much logical thought, he grabs Steve's wrist in the space between them, squeezes twice in quick succession with just enough force to leave the skin around his knuckles a pale, ghostly white, before letting go with a quick glance around them. Steve's startled eyes snap to his.

It's distracting. Almost as much as thinking about how he's going to get to watch the skin redden later into the shape of Billy's fingers.

It won't bruise, however much Billy would like it to. It's not the sort of thing Steve would let him do, Billy muses, and he would never without permission. It's the sort of thought which leaves him tangled and raw for hours right afterwards.

He remembers Steve's bruised lips after too much kissing, violet at one corner when Steve bites them while Billy is working his cock in the boys' bathroom with most of the school gone home for the day.

At any given instant, his head is a compilation of heated memories and moments which haven't happened. Moments Billy needs to happen. If he has to, he'll whine pitifully until Steve takes pity on him and lets him have it all. Because when Billy reaches once more for a thin, fragile wrist and squeezes, Steve's eyes shift to his and he bats his eyelashes just right, and Billy _aches_.

Billy thinks about a lot of things. Sometimes, he thinks how Steve might be thinking about some of them, too.

**Author's Note:**

> ETA April 28th '19: I'm sort of back on [this Hellsite](https://rhubarbdreams.tumblr.com/). If you wanna chat or whatever. I'm **always** on Discord, tho'. Add me @ Highsmith#6255 if you are so inclined.


End file.
